This is Andrew Hovell's blog. He lives in Northern England. He plans for a living. He likes tea

September 30, 2013

Being from the North of England, where we like what we say and say what we bloody like, you could say that common sense runs in my veins.

And being on the outside of things certainly does give you the luxury to look at the industry twitter twatter with an 'emperor's new clothers' perspective. It can be frustrating not to be in the thick of it of course, but there really isn't much that changes about the job, just the tools that change from time to time and the culture at large we operate in.

With this in mind, let's look at the excitement over 'brand response' that's doing the rounds.

A sat in all agency, for a client you would have heard of, where the media agency described 'brand response' to the hushed room as if they'd just discovered time travel.

It was little like the scene in the IT crowd where they con Jen into showing a box - 'the internet'- in an all staff meeting as a special treat, and got exasperated when no one laughed at her fuck wittedness. They looked at the black box in awestruck, religious solemnity.

Data that shows us 'brand response' is nearly as effective in the long term as 'pure brand advertising', and builds a sales spike nearly as big as pure tactical stuff, is really useful.

But 'twas always thus.

All this talk of 'brand' v 'response' as the latest thing to save us all seems a bit, well planners and folk talking to themselves.

All advertising is about response, it's just that what that response needs to be will vary depending on business objectives.

'Brand' tends to mean freedom to not bother talking about the product, which allows all sorts of self indulgent stuff that doesn't shift units in the long or short term.

Just as direct response, or promotions lalways risk create the illusion if sales effect amongst people who would have bought anyway.

I remember a bloke from Honda saying they never used the word brand, sometimes it's more 'image up' sometimes it's more 'product up' but there is always a real story about what the company makes or how it makes it.

Simple.

Even simpler, to quote David Abbot, decades ago. 'Tell the truth about the product in a way that cannot be missed'.

Every generation thinks it's thought of everything new under the sun. It's rarely so.

Just in case the previous post came across as a bit cynical, grumpy and flea bitten (it shouldn't have, it's simply hard won learning and unvarnished truth with tongue firmly in cheek) here's a much more cheerful counterpoint.

I'm ashamed to admit I'm old enough to remember:

Faxing artwork to clients for approval (used to be a suit)

A sense of magic and wonder at sending my first works email

Having to know what CMYK meant and the difference between a film and chromalin

When agencies were discussing if they needed a website

When everyone was telling clients blogs we're the the future

In short, I may not have done as much with my career as I would have hoped, but I've been doing it for a while and there have been some standout moments of mirth and full on joy.

They outweigh the negatives by the proverbial country mile. The downsides are a Star Destroyer, but the ace bits are the Death Star. You have to be happy with that.

Some of the funny bits have been previously hinted at.

Unfortunately, the mind plays tricks with the memory and the most recent are the most accurate and vivid.

But the great moments of fun and joy can be summarised as, in no particular order, and this is just the tip of the iceberg:

The thrill of watching telly and your stuff (or the stuff the creative's did) actually appearing in the commercial break for the first time. TV is a slog, but it's understable why everyone still wants to do it. It's magic.

But that's trumped by work that works. It's just ace when you know you've actually made a difference to the fortunes of a company. Especially if you've taken the time to meet the real people on the ground in that organisation and know that you've contributed to their bonus, job security or even saved their job in rare cases.

An all female creative team who were just a joy to work with when I was still said account manager. Generous, smart and always not bothered with the male, macho creative thing. I wrote some of my best briefs because I'd talked to them first.

A copywriter who worked in Doncaster who was as humble and modest as could be, yet was quintessentially brilliant. We worked as a 'planner and creative team' most of the time. I still miss working with him

An account director I work with now, he knows who he is

Junior people. It's endlessly invigorating to be around energetic people in their twenties who haven't learned the rules and don't care and always ask why. Mentoring people makes YOU better because you have to justify your own habits and recieved wisdom. And when you see them do well, and pass you in flash of genius lightning. It's wonderful

Creative reviews where you see spine tingling work. Where the brief and all that stuff melts away and you see stuff that's just great. Every creative review has the potential to change the game.

The people. The best thing about this industry is the people who tend to live in primary colours.You don't get into this business to make tons of money. Even the interesting job itself can hard at times, but this industry is mostly populated by great people who you want to be around.

Meeting Fred

Getting to work on endlessly different stuff. I've worked on supermarkets, showergel, womens' haircare, biscuits, football, computer software for labs, glass packaging, banking, cars, engine oil, homebuilding..the list goes on and every new client and new market is a chance to learn something

Overcoming my own shyness and introversion. I'll always fear small talk and big groups, but doing this job has forced me to stretch my limits

Some friends I've met who will be friends for life

The kindness and generosity of the best and most talented people in this industry. I've always found that the very best, who are still good, no matter how senior, to be very free with advice and encouragement. At its best, this industry enables you to do anything

After doing real jobs, like call centres, care homes and waiting on tables, getting paid to look out of windows and think and generally do interesting stuff isn't work, it's a privilege

Pitches. Brilliantly stressful. You never feel part of a team like you do on a pitch when it goes well. The way the fear when you read the dreadful client brief, and the flailing while everyone searches for light to be shed, turns into the joy when that idea comes and you know you can move on something.When you can't wait to get into the meeting room to share your ideas with the clients

Creative people. Sociopaths, awkward, but to be honest, when they're good, the most committed, talented and inspiring people you could work with. Admittedly, the ones who try and make up for talent with ego attitude and the latest gear from All Saints can be a downer, but when they're great, they're really great

I was a failed suit. I was given the chance to be a (haven't failed too badly yet) planner. This is an industry of second chances. Some of the best people and most I've met have had professional car crashes. In this game, there are always second acts

This list is not exhaustive, it's just a few things that spring to mind. It's easy to moan (I do) but we should stop and be grateful

September 27, 2013

Because I omitted it from that post about the work from Korean Adstars.

And it's great, really great. Anyone who has worked on stuff related to tourism can tell you that it's really, really hard to actually change behaviour. This work does it in spades.

Also, while many talk a good game about co-creation, social media and creating memes etc, the problem is that few achieve a decent level of scale.

The best of this kind of thing get's great PR, which is not bad thing, word of mouth brand fame and growth, but, to hit hard measures, behavioural change and stuff, that's a rare thing.

I remember in judging that it was unfortunate the case study didn't capture the scale of the achievement, how hard this task was, which meant there was a fair bit of debate about what it should win, and remember feeling it was under rewarded.

Which I guess is a big learning for creative folks, but shouldn't be. It's not what you're selling, it's how you sell it. Find a juicy challenge to overcome etc.

September 19, 2013

2. The world is divided into those who think planners are a necessary pain in the neck and those that think planners are a pain in the neck

3. Every year will see the predicted death of something that doesn't die

4. Every year will be the age of something that won't come of age

5. The size of client organisation is inversely proportioned to its collective intelligence

6. The head of cleint services in 'e' who isn't really management material, is mostly useless but has been an account director too long, has started getting in the way is, is given a pointless job. Apt in quite a few cases, pretty apt

7. Make the Chief Exec's PA your friend at all costs

8. Make traffic your friend. This is even more important

9. Make the people at the research agency your friend (friends close, enemies closer etc)

10. Admire account handlers. You couldn't do their job

11. If you're a planner, the best account handlers and creatives think they can do your job, they are right (bastards)

12. If you're a planner, the worst account handlers and creatives think they can do you're job because they haven't a clue what it is and don't care (bastards)

13. The best new business folk tend to have been incredible suits. They're great at making contacts and getting onto pitches but then know to step away. The worst have never done the day job, but think they can. And don't know when to step away.

14. Clients want to know if your work is any good and if they might like working with you. They don't care about the agency positioning

15. Clients want the pitch team to be the people who will work on the account (see point 13)

16. Be nice to everyone, this industry is too small

17. Take the time to be nice to junior people. You were them once, you know what it's like and one day, they may end up as your boss

18. Don't do the same thing for too long. Change the agency, change the clients. It's the only way to avoid becoming crap and, in the case of changing agencies, get a decent pay rise

19. But stick with people you trust, people you like and especially people who are more talented than you

20. Agency people are not like normal people. Make sure you hang around them too. It wilk make you better at your job, more importantly, a better human being

21. Everyone reads the same blogs and books as you do. Fish where others don't fish. But clients don't, so don't assume the 'lastest thing' means anything to them, and if you can't prove it will shift market share by 3% or whatever, they have a point

22. Most 'ad folk' don't really know what they're doing but got found out long ago

23. Most digital folk don't know what they're doing, but will get found out soon

24. Even more social folk and PR don't know what they're doing, but don't get measured on much that matters, so will get away with it

25. You can tell a lot about a place by the quality of its tea

26. Everyone wants to work at Wieden and Kennedy (including me)

27. Never talk about clients on trains

28. Always check you've clicked 'forward' rather than reply

29. Creative directors should be surgically removed from layout pads

30. The job is too hard not to enjoy it. If you're not, do something about it

31. If you're a suit and good in creative reviews, writing briefs and stuff, but always turn up late, always have typos in the contact report and get lost on the way to client meetings, you're probably a planner

32. If you're a marketing graduate in your first agency job, you need to understand it really doesn't work like they taught you

33. There are two realities in agency life. The real one and the one in case studies and conference seminars

34. You get to work with the most interesting, kind and fun people on planet Earth.

35. There are exceptions

36. Take the blogs with a massive pinch of salt

37.By all means write a blog youself but don't mistake any level of readership for accomplishment in the job

38. How many creatives does it take to change a light bulb? None, they're not fucking changing anything

39. You know it's time to calm it at awards do's when you wake in a hotel broom cupboard

40. You will get fired or made redundant at least once unless you're very lucky. You will thank them one day

41. Shagging clients is never advisable

42. Some places work very long hours. Some don't. Some work long hours just because, others because they're determined and committed. Some work short hours because they're efficient and get on with stuff rather than talking about it, others just want stuff off their desks

43. Some people don't think the job is life or death. Appreciate them, they do the boring tasks you don't want to, and have a life outside the office, which probably makes them more interesting than you are

44. Avoid crashing into your biggest client's Merc

45. Don't turn up at the wrong hotel and faint in front of Amanda Holden and Piers Morgan

46. Kenneth Branagh is a good bloke

47. TV and photo shoots are really boring

48. Be nice

49. This is supposed to be fun

50. What we do really doesn't matter too much, as soon as you learn not to take it seriously, it's much better for all

51. What we do it 10% of what clients have to think about, once you get that, the relationship is much easier

52. A line is not an idea

53. If it's not good as a rough, it's not good

54. Powerpoint is not the point

55. Data is only as good as the person interpreting it

56. If you want to knit a group together, make them the pitch team

57. You can make any project interesting if you try. If you're a planner, that's kind of your job

58. No one cares about the creative brief half as much as its author

59. Absolutely no one cares about the 'brand essence' except for its authors and the people who funded it's development

60. A logo is not a brand

61. If you worked on something good, or at somewhere good a few years ago, stop telling people, they care about what you're doing now

September 18, 2013

Some of the basic choices you have to make when doing the - what should be rare but seems to happen whenever a new brand manager comes in- task of defining a brand focus on a choice.

Build the brand on:

Why you exist

What you do

How you are

Where you want to go

All have some level of merit, perhaps with the exception of 'how you are'.

Tone of voice, personality traits are massively important and often overlooked when it come to building communications, but are flimsy to build a brand on.

Because there are not many personality traits to around.

For example, as has been said elsewhere, umpteen agencies like to talk about how they are curious. Not only is this as generic as soft drinks saying they're fizzy, or trainers having cushioning, it doesn't instanty create a picture of why you're better, just how you go about things.

Now consider the teachings of Saint Byron Sharp.

Brands don't need to be different, just distinctive. They need to get noticed.

Just Do It wasn't powerful because people thought 'oh they'll empower me' it was utterly fresh and provocative.

As was 'the future's bright' which, I'll wager, the average mobile phone buyer didn't understand, they just liked how it made them feel.

The most reliable way I know to do this is have a point of view on something that matters.

It has to be relevant to product/brand of course, but for example, Guiness and 'Here's to waiting' wasn't successful because it focused on a feature of the experience, it freed up an utterly distinctive point of view on the world and some of the best advertising ever...in a relevant manner.

I guess that means if you have a starting point, it's a mixture of 'why you exist' and 'where you want to be' but personally, a great point of view seems to convey so much more, especially if it starts by relieving some sort of tension in real life you can credibly get involved in.

September 10, 2013

Stefan Volery is sauntering past the set of benches where the British swimmers are sat. He's a picture of the kind of arrogance that comes with a genuine level of accomplishment, that still has failed quite scale the heights. Olympic swimming finalist, but nowhere near the medals.

My 13 year old self would kill to be as good looking and fast as him of course (while the current me would love to have that record), but I don't think I'd be quite so pleased with myself if I did.

One wag in our group agrees with me and fires a barrage from his machine water pistol in him Swiss face, so Volery promptly stalks up to his face, screams some abuse, whips the aqua- sniper's hat from his shaven head, deftly dunking in the pool before replacing it on the shocked comedian's head.

For the rest of our four days in Germany, whenever Volery gets on the starting blocks or the podium (he will win mens 50 metres freestyle) everyone will hear the sound of around thirty British swimmers booing as loud as their teenage voices are able.

We're hear for the Darmstadt international, which, in 1987, is arguably the most important swim meet in Europe, outside of the European championships. It's at an open air, ten lane beauty of a pool. There are international teams from all over.

From one perspective, it's all about the swimming. Everyone is here to compete and do well.

On the other, you have well over five hundred athletes, mostly under twenty, far away from home and parents, afforded the kind of freedoms most have to wait until college to enjoy.

In four days time we will have the mother of all closing parties in the evening sunshine. The Germans won't seem to care about legal drinking ages and I will experience drunkennes for the first time, which will lead to an equally shitfaced Canadian backstoker.

The will be faces on the journey home deathly pale from hangovers and embarrasment. This is yet to come though.

Right now, the Volery episode has broken my concentration. I'm trying to mentally prepare for the 200m backstroke. I'm in with a real chance of winning.

The other opportunity will be 200 medley, but I will be beaten into second by a towering British swimmer called Jamie Randall.

There are no heats and final in the age groups in this meet. The heats are organised around entry times and you just go out and swim. The best time in your age group wins. It's only the men who then have a final.

This is a worry to me. I usually do okay in the heats, but then experience some mental gear change and swim much faster in finals. Somehow I only perform when it really matters.

My body is still buzzing from the warm up swim. The pool felt good. It's so wide and deep that turbulence is a minimum. I've meticulously counted the strokes from the flags erected ten meters from each wall. In backstroke, if you turn to look around, you've lost. Timing to hit the wall at the end of the stroke is critical.

The call comes for me to go into the paddock with other swimmers. I go over with in my tracksuit, towel and entry called clutched in my hands.We are arranged into our respective groups of ten for each heat, slowly moving down the line for our race. Each gradual progression sees us getting more active. Jiggling our muscles, doing little jumps and endless arm windmills to loosen our shoulders.

A few people talk to each other, others actually crack a few jokes. I'm completely silent. It could be mistaken for arrogance or rudeness, but the truth is, I'm so nervous all I can do is think about the race.

Also, the closer we get, the more I yawn. I don't know when or where this happens, but before the big events that matter, I always develop a chronic yawning habit. Years and years later, I won't be able to stop yawning before going into big pitches, just as, years later, I'm a chaos of jagged nerves, my mind racing, just as when I used to get on the starting blocks all those years ago, when the powerpoint is fired up, some sort of internal switch flicks and I'm fine.

I don't understand this in 1987, I just feel both incredibly calm and voiolently coiled up. Ready to explode off those blocks.In my mind's eye I'm counting the strokes for each length, visualising my arms windmilling above me, feeling my shoulders roll while my body tries to stay as flat as possible.

In 2013, I'll read how introverts are able to literally become someone else when they feel prepared about something and genuinely care about it.

They blow the whistle, we all jump in the pool and hug the blocks as tightly as possible. Then the gun goes and we launch off the blocks, going a good twenty metres under water, propelling ourselves forward with a dolphin kick.

The next thing I'm aware of is smacking the blocks at the finish as hard as I can. I never remember a race. The final metre is always like waking up from some sort of dream.

I look at the digital clock and see I've won my heat.The time is pretty good.

It's only when I return to our team's benches that I get to check everyone's time and realise I've won.

Winning is always an ant-climax. Losing, or failing is always a more intense feeling than winning. A best time, placing where you should, or even coming first or just experiences of having escaped failure. There is little elation, just a feeling of relief. It's only when you surprise everyone, especially yourself that it feels special.

This should feel great. I was only in with a slim chance of winning, this was at least a moderate surprise, but there was no 'final' no shoot-out. The only enemy was the clock. It feels strangely hollow.

When I lose the medley later, I'm next to the guy who wins. I can feel the moment in the final freestyle sprint when the invisible elastic band between in snaps and I've lost him. It will drag much lower than winning has lifted me up.

Just like winning pitches will rarely feel particularly special, you're mostly just relieved and afraid. You solved the puzzle this time, it kind of worked, but you'll have to do it again, only this time with that weight of expectation. There is nothing more daunting than a blank piece of paper.

But when I talk to Mum on the payphone and I hear the pride in her voice, it suddenly feels great.

Then it's time to relax, cheer on team mates, watch the grown up do their finals and abuse Volery.

The strangeness of the experience for us all, far away from home, struggling with expectation, the fear of failure and the strange numbness of winning, along with the brutal nature of training mean we're all close. It's easy to make friends with kids from other countries, because it's the same for all of us.

When we all get home and back to school, we all experience our Clark Kent moments. We're all trying to adjust to a world where no one else really has our frame of reference. On day you're in the foreign sun with kids from all over the world, experiencing very grown up sensations and dealing with the un-reality of it all.

The next you're struggling with quadratic equations.

It's only all these years later that understand how special it all was and how truly lucky I was too.

September 04, 2013

I was in Singapore a couple of years ago, helping out on some Asia Pacific strategy doo dah. I was with CMO's from various markets, it was mostly digitally focused.

I left energised.

Because while people in 'established' markets with a long tradition of advertising and stuff agonise about the future and spout stuff like 'ideas we advertise' rather than 'advertising ideas' it seems like these markets, without the baggage of 'the golden years' , plus the jet propelled cultural and economic change, don't bother taking about the future, they're just getting with innovating it.

Don't get me wrong, they have challenges and a planet of average, predictable stuff too. And yet....

If found the work at the Adstars Awards mostly average, which goes for most regions too. But the top ten per cent was really great. Not because of craft skills or orginal advertising ideas, but because they had big ideas that changed behaviour. Some were expressed as advertising, many were not.

None had 'good advertising' as the primary goal.

Most aimed for headlines and getting talked about. Fame strategy, the most effective approach you can take.

One of the overall Grand Prix winners, the Bridge of Life, changed lives by saving them. Using technology to talk to young men at the final jumping point. It made noise for Samsung Life insurance by doing something authentic and profound, by showing great media/technlology/cultural thinking all in one great idea.

While TXTBKS is just so smart and starts with thinking creatively about a clear problem.

My Blood is Red and Black shows how you make something people don't think about that much, or want to do that much, compelling if you can connect it to something they care about, in a properly authentic, way. Be part of their life, add something. Make a cultural contribution.

Start with what you want people to do, rather than what you want them to think and work back. It also shows the power of planning your story and then making medi build it, rather than just aiming for 'reach' or 'eyeballs'.

While Beijing Duck shows the power of genuine surprise.It also shows when you get you're audience's emtional needs, in Thailand that's heavilly towards irreverence, you can make magic. Mostly though, this is bloody funny and the testament is that it became part of the youth rhyming slang. Few can claim to have that level of 'legs'.

While Lifebuoy Roti is genius, innovative media thinking, about where and when to show up. I did worry it was a little bit 'spammy' but it's so relevant to the moment of eating with your hands, I think it's charming and adds real value.

One photo a day for the worst year of my life shows how you can re-purpose a cultural phenomonon like 'one photo a day' so common on Youtube, for devastating effect and reach. Some might think 'It's a bit Dove' but I just think it digs right into culture and makes you feel something. Oh and the craft is great.